


All These Ages

by booksandtea15



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Best Friends, Buckle up kiddies, Kids AU, M/M, Magical Realism, Misunderstandings, Multi, Pining, Polyamory, and fun, as in, at first, they're all kids, this is gonna be long, witch slash tree person Renjun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 01:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16253744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/booksandtea15/pseuds/booksandtea15
Summary: The first time Jeno met Jaemin, he knew almost immediately they were going to be best friends. The first time Jeno met Renjun, he knew things were going to change.A tale of magic, school, first love, and finding yourself.





	All These Ages

**_8 years old_ **

 

The first time Jeno met Jaemin, Jaemin was hanging upside down in a tree, hands hanging down, face red. 

“Hi,” the boy said, swinging himself slightly. 

Jeno released the lollipop he’d been sucking on with a pop, wiping his mouth and coming away with a blue stain on his shirt. Whoops. His mother had told him to be careful not to get stains on his clothes. He smiled at the boy in the tree, his eyes crinkling. “Hi.”

They stared at each other for a while, Jeno sticking the lollipop back in his mouth. 

The boy swung himself upright, now sitting on the branch and staring down at Jeno. “Aren’t you going to go get someone?”

Jeno shrugged, then shook his head. “No, why would I?”

The boy smiled. “I’m not allowed to climb trees. It’s in the rule book.” He leaned down, a conspiratol gleam in his eyes. “I know because I had to write out the whole rulebook ten times once. I was caught putting a whoopee cushion on the principal’s chair.” The boy was grinning, his chest puffing up, and Jeno couldn’t help the grin pulling at his cheeks.

“That’s impressive.”

A light flush appeared on the boy’s cheeks. “It is, isn’t it.”

Jeno nodded, still smiling, then glanced appraisingly at the tree. “Well. I wouldn’t know the rules. This is my first day here. So, how did you get up there anyway.”

The boy grinned, excitement lighting up his features, and scrambled around on the tree like a particularly agile monkey, until he came to a stop on a low-hanging branch. “There,” the boy gestured, pointing at a protrusion lower down the tree, “and there,” pointing to another one near Jeno’s midriff. “So you just, kinda, put your foot there, then pull yourself up there and, tada!” The boy sprang upright, arms held wide. “In the tree you are.”

Jeno squinted at the tree, stuck his lollipop in his mouth, and began to climb. His shirt got a rip down the side, and his shoes got scuffed, but otherwise he made it up the tree safely, smiling widely at the boy as Jeno joined him on the branch. 

“You made it,” the boy grinned, and Jeno grinned back around the lollipop. The boy had that kind of smile. “I’m Jaemin.”

“Jeno.”

“I have a feeling we’re gonna be best friends.”

There came shouting from across the field, and Jeno looked up to see their homeroom teacher stalking their way, his mouth pulled into a tight line and his shoulders pulled up to around his ears. 

“You know what, I think so too.”

And, even after being yelled at by their teacher and sent to stand in the corner, then getting sent to opposite sides of the room because they kept giggling at one another, then arriving home to his mother scolding him for ruining his clothes and getting into trouble on the first day, Jeno rather thought they would be. 

\---

**_9 years old_ **

 

The first time Jeno and Jaemin met Mark, they were, as was their norm at that point, in trouble. 

In their defence, this time it really  _ wasn’t  _ their fault. They really had been trying to do their work and not get into trouble, since this was the first time they were allowed in the big science labs, with  _ actual _ things to pour together and pretend to be a mad scientist.

They had been firmly and sternly told (them in particular, Jeno had noticed, being pulled out of morning assembly for the lecture), that there was to be absolutely  _ no _ shenanigans. None. No trying to be actual scientists, or pulling pranks on other people, or scaring people because there were  _ dangerous fluids and components _ .

Of course, they had agreed. And they were actually serious. Jeno and Jaemin had had a serious conversation about it beforehand, and they had both agreed that they were taking it seriously this time. At least the first time. At  _ least _ . 

So this was really,  _ really _ , not their fault.

Jeno had been highlighting the instructions, making sure he knew exactly what was going on, while Jaemin was carefully and meticulously washing the instruments they would be using. They were calm, and careful, and  _ definitely not _ causing any trouble.

It was while Jaemin and Jeno were both poring over the notes, heads close together as they discussed the work, that it happened. One moment everything was fine, the lab filled with sounds of children working, the occasional harsh clinck as test tubes were handled too roughly, and the next there was a bang, a crash, and Jeno spun around to watch in horror as all their carefully washed and balanced lab equipment tumbled into each other, like dominoes, crashing to the floor, and taking the equipment of the bench next to them with it. 

Jeno drew a deep breath, and glanced at Jaemin who was staring intently out the window, a scowl on his face. 

“Jae…” Jeno breathed, eyes wide.

“There was something in the window, I swe--”

“Mr Na! Mr Lee! What did you  _ do? _ ”

Jeno and Jaemin both winced, looking up at their science teacher, a formidable man whose size belied the precision of his hands, especially when it came to pointing out Jaemin and Jeno’s various faults.

“Mr Lee, we didn’t do anything, honestly, they just--” Jeno started babbling, feeling his heart starting to pound in his ears. They actually tried this time. They really  _ had _ . They couldn’t get into trouble over this, could they?

“There was someone at the window!” Jaemin piped up, gesturing wildly, deftly side-stepping the shards of glass. “Mr Lee, I swe-- I promise I saw someone at the window. I think they threw something at the test tubes, otherwise I really don’t know how--”

“Enough.” 

The word was said quietly enough, but there was weight to it, a finality that dripped down Jeno’s back and settled in his stomach. Mr Lee was rubbing his nose between his thumb and forefinger, before sighing heavily and pointing at the door.

“But, Mr Lee,” Jaemin’s voice had lost its defiance, becoming small like it rarely did. “I really did stack them correctly. I, I really did.”

“He did,” the boy next to them piped up, also standing next to a pile of shattered glass, glasses pushed up tight to his nose. “I saw them. They were going over the notes. I didn’t see anyone by the windows,” the boy shrugged at Jaemin, “but they did do everything else correctly. Sir.”

Mr Lee squinted at the boy, taking in his impeccably tucked in shirt and slicked back hair, big square glasses on his nose, before nodding, turning back to Jaemin and Jeno. “Very well. You two get off easily this time. Just go ask the janitor for a broom and clean this mess up.”

Mr Lee walked away, and Jeno and Jaemin both heaved sighs of relief. They weren’t going to get kicked out of the lab. Not on the first day, at least.

“Hi,” the boy next to them said, sticking out his hand, all proper like, Jeno thought. “My name’s Mark. I hope you guys aren’t going to make me clean that up all by myself.”

“Jeno,” Jeno said, awkwardly sticking out his hand. 

“Jaemin, and, of course we wouldn’t”

Mark grinned, revealing a gap-toothed smile. “Everyone knows who you are.” His smile faltered slightly, head dropping, before regaining his composure. “Um, wanna be friends?” He laughed nervously. “I know, I know you’re not supposed to ask things like that. But I just thought, it wouldn’t hurt to… try…”

Jeno grinned at Jaemin. 

“Do you like climbing trees?” Jeno asked, leaning back against the counter.”

“I, I’ve never tried. But I could learn!”

“How about camping?”

“As long as I have my inhaler.”

Jeno and Jaemin glanced at each other, and an understanding passed between them. “How do you feel about breaking the rules?”

At this, Mark, who had been staring at the ground and wringing his hands the entire conversation, looked up, smiling, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “There’s always a loophole somewhere. My dad’s a lawyer.” He pushed up his glasses. “I know  _ all  _ about loopholes.”

Jeno and Jaemin grinned at him. 

(And they were  _ almost _ always able to talk their way out of every spot of trouble they landed into after that. Almost.)

\---

**_9 and a half years old_ **

 

“Um, why are we doing this again?” Mark shivered out, arms wrapped around himself, the beanie his mother had knit for him pulled low over his ears.

Jeno, shivering under his own beanie (it had been a communal Christmas present from Mrs Lee, and extremely comfortable) shrugged, watching as Jaemin, criminally enthusiastic given the current temperature, bashed through the foliage ahead of them, headlamp stuck on his head and too big grin on his face. 

“I’m not exactly sure. Jaemin insisted it was  _ necessary _ . Something about the moon?”

Jaemin heaved a long, put upon sigh in front of them. “I’ve explained this like, at  _ least _ two times already.”

“I’m pretty sure I was asleep during both of those. You know I don’t like to stay up late at sleepovers,” Mark interjected. Jeno giggled at the look on Jaemin’s face, a cross between a pout and a scowl.

“Fine, I’ll explain again then. Since you’re inattentive as  _ hell _ , apparently.”

Jisung, Mark’s younger cousin who had been following along wrapped in his warmest sweater and scarf, both things Jeno desperately wished he had thought to grab, gasped, hands flying to his mouth. “We’re not allowed to  _ say that _ .” He crossed his arms, frowning. “Jaemin, take it back. You’re not allowed to say h-e-l-l,” he spelled out carefully, still frowning. 

“Jisung, come on, we already sneaked out of the house I mean--”

“Shh!”

They all paused at Mark’s warning, watching, waiting, listening. Jeno, suddenly, became uncomfortably aware of the fact that they were in the woods, at night, with only two flashlights, and none of their parents knew where they were. His eyes flicked around, noticing the small rustles and creaks of the wood’s nighttime creatures. 

Shuffling closer to Jaemin, who was staring out into the dark intently, Jeno grabbed onto the hem of Jaemin’s shirt, swallowing softly. “Nana, can’t we go home now? It’s dark, and cold, and there’s hot chocolate at my house.”

“Jeno, wait, shh,” Jaemin hummed, reaching back to hold Jeno’s hand. “Can’t you hear it?”

Jeno pouted, unhappy, but stilled, listening. And then, then he heard something. It was soft, almost inaudible except if you were listening very intently. It started out as a soft, melodic humming at the edge of your hearing, almost like a mosquito. But less irritating. 

“What… what’s that sound?” Mark whispered, tilting his head. 

Jaemin held up a finger, halting their speech. “Wait, hold on, listen. It’s changing.”

And it  _ was _ . Instead of the humming, it was turning into clear, though still soft, notes. It was beautiful, something that Jeno knew his mother, who loved playing piano, would have been in ecstatics over. But it was also, it was also lonely. There was a deep, pining, aching sort of loneliness in it, something that made Jeno flashback, vividly and painfully, to days spent in an apartment with no friends, and a mother too tired to do anything but sleep when she came back from her 11 hour waitress shift. 

“Come on,” Jaemin urged, pushing forward, towards the sound. Jeno followed without complaint, dragged along by Jaemin’s hand still in his, and Jisung followed behind him, a half enchanted look on his face. Even Mark, usually their voice of reason, followed with only one backwards glance, too intrigued by the sound to say anything.

They walked a while, the music, for it was definitely music, growing louder and louder the further they went. And, strangely, although none of them knew the wood that well beyond the parts that ran around the edges of their yards, Jeno never got the sense that he was lost, that he couldn’t just turn around and immediately find his way back home. 

Finally, they seemed to near a clearing, soft golden light shining from it, the music emanating from it. They emerged into a surprisingly warm clearing, a cheery little fire sparking, next to… a boy. A boy with light hair, and closed eyes, humming and singing next to the fire, stirring something in a large black pot. He didn’t seem to notice them, continuing his song, and it was only when Jisung stepped into the clearing, stepping on a dry twig in the process, the snap like a gunshot through the clearing, that he stopped, gasping as he opened his eyes and saw the four boys staring at him with wide eyes

The boy swallowed, looked down at the ladle in his hands, and hid it behind his back. “What… what are you doing here?”

Jeno glanced at Jaemin, who was squinting at the boy, and stepped forward. “We were, we were following the song.”

“The song?”

“Yeah,” Mark stepped forward as well, and Jeno was surprised to hear his voice wasn’t shaking. “The one you were singing, right? What was it?”

“Um…” The boy’s features flickered strangely in the dancing firelight, and Jeno could swear his eyes were changing colour. “It was… a song. Definitely. Just a song. Yup.”

“You don’t sound very sure about that,” Jisung quipped, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at the boy. Jeno was always surprised at how sassy the kid actually was, given he was a whole two years their junior. The respect Jeno would usually expect was non-existent. It was actually quite amusing.

“You don’t know anything. Anyway it’s like, late, right? You should be in your houses like, sleeping.” The boy’s eyes shifted away from them. “I mean, I guess, right.”

“What are  _ you _ doing here then?” Jaemin demanded, walking even closer. Jeno felt the urge to pull him back, something about the boy, and the fire, and the whole situation, really, screaming other, strange, not of their world. But Jaemin had a firm grip on his hand, and so Jeno was dragged along, closer to the strange boy in the woods.

“I live here.”

“Where?”

The boy spread his arms. “Here. The woods. This is my home.”

Jeno frowned. “But, what about your parents?”

A shadow seemed to fall over the boy’s face, darker than the shadow that the fire threw warranted. “I don’t… have parents.” 

Jisung, never one for much subtlety, snorted. “What do you mean you ‘don’t have parents’? Everyone has parents. Or, at least, had parents…” Jisung’s voice trailed off, apparently realising what he had just said. Mark heaved a sigh and hit him upside the head.

“Ignore him. His parents are still trying to teach him like,  _ any _ sort of manners.”

The boy pursed his lips, before breaking into a grin. “I can see that.”

“What’s your name?” Jaemin started, walking forward, a light in his eyes Jeno knew very well. He was intrigued, excited,  _ interested _ . (Recently, disconcertingly, Jeno had begun to think that was a very, very interesting expression. An expression that made something deep in his stomach clench tight, that made soft, warm feelings climb up his throat. It was disconcerting, but not wholly unwelcome.)

“Renjun. My name is Renjun. And I already know who you are.” A smile played along the corner of the boy’s, of Renjun’s, lips. “Jeno, Jaemin, Mark, and Jisung,” he said, pointing to each of them, correctly, in turn.

Mark frowned. “How do you know our names? Were you spying on us? Can you,” a blank expression rippled across Mark’s face, “Can you read minds?”

Renjun laughed, a bell-like sound that carried, filling the clearing just as the song had. “Not at all. As for how I  _ actually _ know your names well, guess you’ll have to stick around and find out.”

“That’s weirdly ominous,” Mark whispered in Jeno’s ear. Jeno was inclined to agree but, well. Renjun was intriguing, and mysterious, and he made Jaemin’s eyes and face light up in that expression that made Jeno  _ feel  _ things. Jeno could live with a little ominous, if it meant he got all that. 

(Besides, he wanted to see whether Renjun’s eyes really  _ did _ change colour, or if that was just his imagination.)

\---

Apparently, Renjun’s eyes really  _ did _ change colour. Jeno didn’t think it was as noticeable as it had appeared at first, but it was definitely there. When he laughed, his eyes flashed a bright brilliant blue, usually only for a second or two, before returning to its usual dark brown. When he was feeling mischievous, which was often, as they all soon discovered, his eyes would flicker between brown and green, unpredictable as the ideas and schemes that came out of his mouth. 

(Schemes that often seemed impossible, until Renjun got involved, humming a song or looking at something a certain way until it did exactly what he wanted it to.)

And, apparently, he knew their names, because he just knew stuff, according to him. And also because it was his fault they had gotten into trouble in the lab because he just wanted to see if the test tubes would survive being hit by a rock. Jeno sighed really, really loudly when he said that, and tried not to be charmed by the crooked grin that spread across Renjun’s face.

It happened slowly, the… divide, as Jeno came to call it. It wasn’t nearly as dramatic as it sounded, or as he wrote it out in his diary to be, but, in Jeno’s mind, it was important and dramatic enough to warrant the name. At least, once he realised what was happening. 

It happened slowly, subtly, and with no apparent evil intent. 

Renjun was interesting. No, he was something beyond interesting. Intriguing, Jeno’s dictionary said. Mysterious. Charismatic. 

He would show up in them middle of the day, or at school, appearing, grinning and talking as if they had been in the middle of a conversation all this time, grabbing their hands and pulling them along, talking excitedly of a squirrel teaching its babies how to walk, or of the fairies dancing in their ring (which turned out to be tiny birds, but, like, the atmosphere was very magical, so Jeno would take it.)

Jeno and Jaemin were often together, almost always together, joined at the hip, Jeno’s mother said. They sat together in class, they did their projects together, their homework, almost everything. 

Almost. 

As time wore on, and Jeno’s ninth year faded into his tenth, he began to, to suspect there were some things he didn’t know about. Some things Renjun and Jaemin laughed about, made references to, that left Jeno scrambling for understanding. 

Sometimes, the Samsung his parents got for him, in order for them to know where he was and make sure he was safe and all that boring stuff, blew up in them middle of the night with a slew of notifications from Jaemin, talking about glowing trees and Renjun singing to the stars to make them dance. 

And. And it sounded wonderful. And awesome. And, and it made something small, and hot, and yearning and almost, almost  _ angry _ wake up in Jeno’s chest. Something that burned hotly when he thought of Renjun and Jaemin together, without him. It wasn’t, it wasn’t jealousy. Jeno didn’t think. Not exactly. 

It was more that he felt. Sad. There was an immense, heavy, burning sadness. He, he wanted to be there. He wanted to experience the wonder in Jaemin’s eyes whenever someone managed to show him something new. The peculiar kind of pride in Renjun’s face, eyes glimmering violet, with, with pride, almost. A content sort of pride. 

He wanted to be there. And he wasn’t. And he was. Getting tired. Of pretending to be okay when Renjun and Jaemin excluded him.

Jeno started to spend more time with Mark, studying, reading books and talking about the exciting parts. He still spent lots of time with Jaemin as well, just, not as much.

It was on one of these occasions, Jaemin and Jeno sitting quietly in Jaemin’s house and working on a school project, Jaemin drawing lines on the poster they were making and Jeno compiling the information, when the door blew open and Renjun strode in, flowers stuck haphazardly in his hair and a ring of daisies around his neck. 

Jaemin’s mom walked in, delivering two glasses of water for Jeno and Jaemin, and glanced at the door, then at Renjun, frowned as if she was confused, and then looked at the open door again. “Renjun, honey, would you close the door please? I don’t want Penny to come in.”

Penny was Jaemin’s dog, an energetic sheepdog that had the best dog smile and gave the best cuddles and who Jeno and Jaemin had perfected sneaking into the house under his mom’s nose. 

Jeno always found the reaction their parents had to Renjun very interesting. They never actually asked where he came from, or where he lived, or what his parents did, or where he went to school. None of the usual questions Jeno was used to getting from parents about new friends. They just, kind of accepted his presence. Much like their friend group, after the initial meeting. 

“Hey,” Jeno greeted, echoed by Jaemin, looking up briefly, before frowning down at the paper again. How was he supposed to condense twenty pages of information down to one A2 poster?

“Greetings,” Renjun said, swinging himself up onto the table, legs swinging and eyes flashing green. Oh no. Jeno knew that look. That look said fun, but fun that was more than likely to get them all into a heap of trouble. “Do you guys want to see something cool?”

Jeno sighed, but Jaemin leaned back in his chair, twirling his pencil between his fingers. “Define ‘cool’.”

Renjun’s grin grew, and a phantom wind seemed to blow through his hair, rustling the leaves. “A dragon. A real, live, dragon, that definitely, probably, maybe wouldn’t eat you on sight.”

“Definitely not,” Jeno began, already thinking of arriving home and trying to explain to his mother why his uniform, that had cost her two weekend shifts, was singed and torn. “We need to complete this project before tomorrow and, and I promised my mother I wouldn’t ruin another uniform--”

“Yes!” Jaemin interrupted, glancing at Jeno with a frown. “Jeno, it’s a  _ dragon _ . How often do we get the chance to see a  _ dragon _ .”

“Um,” Renjun began, a frown twisting at his face. “If this isn’t a good time…”

“No, it’s fine, Jeno’s just being  _ boring _ ,” Jaemin scoffed, rolling his eyes.

Now, usually, a comment like that would have Jeno rearing to show him wrong, going along with anything Jaemin said, just to prove he  _ could _ . But, but he had seen his mother’s bent head late at night over their bills. He knew she put a bit away each month so he could go to college. He knew how it felt to wash and iron his own clothes, since he was now old enough to help out. He knew he had to get a scholarship. He knew he had to do good at school. And the tight, angry, burning sadness in his chest flared up, making him narrow his eyes at the two boys staring at him.

“Maybe I am. But I don’t want to get yelled at by Ma’am tomorrow for handing in our project late, and I have to be home early to make dinner.” He turned back to his papers, cheeks burning, eyes hot and itchy, but a fiery sense of righteousness burning in his chest.

There was a long, awkward, stifling silence. One that crawled with unsaid words, disappointed expectations and bruised feelings. 

“Fine then. I’ll just go then. Come on, Renjun.” Jaemin forced a chuckle. “I’m  _ dying _ to see a real dragon.”

“Jaemin…”

“Come  _ on _ , Renjun.”

Jeno heard the door open behind him, close, and then thick silence, broken only by Penny’s excited barking as she spotted her master. Jeno refused to look back. He was right. He was  _ right _ . He was being responsible, and reasonable, and, and Jaemin wasn’t.

For the rest of the afternoon, Jeno worked on the project, and hoped Miss Chae wouldn’t mind the watermarks on the paper.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I'm so excited for this. It's gonna be big, it's gonna be bold. And I really, really hope you guys like it. 
> 
> Fine me on twitter:  
> [booksandtea15](https://twitter.com/booksandtea15)


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